He's standing on my wings
watching me struggle to fly,
I could try once again to break free,
but I fear that'd be the death of me.
An angel under His control
is better than an angel with no wings at all.
He bids again, "My will be done
and unto you I will show the Son.
The fight will get harder, the struggle will increase
but come ye unto Me, and in thy soul shall be peace."
The days get harder, I take them one by one.
Each night I close with a prayer in the name of the Son.
With wings released, new solace found
I feel myself lift off the ground.
I close my eyes and begin to fly,
Up to my never ending lullaby.
